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[neveraskedtwice]

Students here, Emma has already discovered, are a bit of a gamble. With any- and everyone free to sign up for courses, a teacher gets all kinds. She's not yet sure what to make of the bunch she's received today, though a couple of them are interesting enough. With class newly ended, texts handed out and expectations made clear, she gathers her

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[dreambigger]

"At least it wasn't a broken shoe this time," Eames says lightly, glancing down at her for a moment before he leans over to reach for a couple of the papers. It's a surprise, coming across her on the path like this, but not one he ever minds, her company as worthwhile as anything else they ever do, albeit in different ways. Especially now that she knows about what he did back home, there are few people, if any, he can talk so easily to. "Coming from class? How'd it go?"

[neveraskedtwice]

Emma gathers the rest, looking up at him with a quick, genuine smile. "Well, thank you," she says, holding her hand out for the others. "I'm not entirely sure what to make of the students, but... at least they seem willing to learn." That's true enough of anyone in class, she supposes, in a place where enrollment is entirely at will, but it's still refreshing at times.

[dreambigger]

"That should be promising, then," Eames says with a short nod, as if he has any grounds to be talking about it at all, not having bothered with school in a long time. It seems logical enough, anyway, and he has no reason not to take her word for it. Handing over the papers he's collected, he offers a smile of his own in turn. "Can't think why anyone taking it wouldn't want to."

[neveraskedtwice]

Remembering herself a little, Emma draws the papers into the pile, shaking her head. "People do all manner of things," she said, "good or bad, for utterly ridiculous reasons. Because they think they should, in this case. There's usually one of those at least. Or because they don't know what the course actually entails. In any case, I was just going for dinner before I headed home. Care to join me, darling?" She can't imagine why he wouldn't.

[dreambigger]

"Of course," Eames answers, like that ought to be obvious. It isn't where he'd been heading, but it isn't as if it's out of his way, or as if he has anywhere better to be, anyone better to be spending his time with. It's a funny thing, really, being so attracted to someone and so genuinely enjoying their company. He's just lucky that she's seemed to have the same approach to such things as he does. "Are there a lot of students this time around?"

[neveraskedtwice]

"Only four," Emma answers, "although that's not too small around here. Come to that, it's not much smaller than some of the courses I taught at home." In fact, there were times she taught just the three girls, so in that respect, it's welcome. She prefers the smaller courses anyway, prefers being able to work more closely with her students; it's more interesting for everyone than if she were spreading herself thin. Pushing open the Compound door, she smiles back over at her shoulder, nodding for him to follow.

[dreambigger]

"Small classes there, too, then?" Eames asks, one eyebrow lifting as he follows her into the Compound, only a couple of steps behind. It's more surprising in the context of before this place than after; when the school itself is solely a voluntary thing, it's probably lucky that anyone goes at all, though he also can't imagine that most of them would have anything better to be doing. The bulk of his education - the useful parts, anyway - took place outside a classroom, but in theory, he supposes it would be a worthwhile way to spend time.

[neveraskedtwice]

"Very." It's not far at all to the kitchen, but Emma keeps glancing over her shoulder at him. "As I've said, it was highly exclusive. There were very few students who were qualified to attend." If that's elitist, well - that's exactly what it was meant to be. Even those with more egalitarian views could hardly fault her for only wanting the best. Anyone less equipped is trouble in the field. She's made too many mistakes before.

[dreambigger]

"I suppose this wouldn't quite compare, then, would it?" Eames guesses, not much of a question. It's only logical; around here, the people taking classes are, for the most part, only doing so because they're interested, but there are no qualifiers, no prerequisites. (He would hardly be putting this level of thought into it otherwise, but with the subject at hand, some conclusions are just easily come to.) "When anyone who wants to can sign up."

[neveraskedtwice]

"Not even close," Emma agrees, "but I suppose it could be worse." In the kitchen, it's still a bit early for dinner, cooking still going on, and she isn't sure if she wants to bother waiting or put something together herself (from leftovers and the like, because she isn't about to try cooking, least of all with Eames around). She settles for getting a glass of iced tea first, going in search of cups. Nothing was ever really going to compare anyway and she's still desperate to get back to her students. "Besides, this place is so dull. I'll take what I can get."

[dreambigger]

Eames, for his part, does nothing but follow her lead, leaning back against the counter by the fridge, not caring or really even stopping to consider if he's in anyone's way. The kitchen almost always seems to be like this, so rarely quiet; it's nothing that seems remotely noteworthy. "Oh, I'm with you there," he agrees in all seriousness. The snow, he would have done without, but now that it's gone, he's as restless as ever, eager for some sort of excitement. "Hopefully this'll serve."

[neveraskedtwice]

"Nothing will but a one-way ticket out of this hellhole," Emma says, pleasant but firm. She can't bring herself to believe otherwise. No matter if things become better here, which seems doubtful; she'll still be only half of herself, powerless and idle. Living without purpose or ability sometimes hardly feels like living at all. "Iced tea?"

[dreambigger]

"Mm, sure," Eames replies, gaze fixing briefly on the pitcher before he glances at the floor, then her again. "And believe me, darling, there's nothing I'd like more." He just isn't sure what that ticket would mean, something he still can't help thinking about, whether it would come in the form of simply waking up back on an airplane or actually returning to a separate universe, or if there would even be any way to tell. It's the idea of the last that worries him the most.

[neveraskedtwice]

In what must easily be be the most domestic gesture she's made in over a year, Emma brings the glasses over and kisses him, not on the lips but the cheek. She has a good sense for when something is wrong, part and parcel of reading people well, and though Eames can be difficult to parse, she's had time to learn something of his moods. It's a concession to comforting a friend, that's all, and a swift one at that as she presses a glass into his hand. "Eventually," she says. "You'll get back."

[dreambigger]

Free hand moving, for all of a few seconds, to her waist, Eames smiles, entirely natural, with an exhale that would be a laugh if it were audible. "Here's hoping we all do," he replies, "whatever that means." There is, after all, no way of being sure, but for both of their sakes, he hopes it happens. She may be the best thing he's found about this place, but no person has ever been enough to keep him anywhere, awake or dreaming alike, every man for himself being a rule by which he's always abided.

[neveraskedtwice]

"I suppose we'll find out," says Emma. She lifts her glass to drink, smiling a little to herself. A day must come when a way out is either discovered or given, and she'll be first in line if she has anything to say about it. The waiting makes her anxious and irritable, but at least today she has things to distract her, other ways to occupy her mind. "In the meantime, perhaps we'd better wait on food after all."